The Heart of the Mountain
by Lothloriel
Summary: Ever wondered about the Arkenstone? I did... preHobbit oneshot


When the jewels were created, they were three and were named the Silmarils, _white shining radiance_. And all who saw them were amazed, and Varda herself blessed and hallowed them. And for a time there was peace, and on the feast-days the three Silmarilli blazed on the brow of Fëanor, taking in all light, and changing it, and casting it forth again mingled with their own radiance to create light of dazzling beauty. 

Then they were captured by Melkor, and bound into his heavy crown, and even in the utter oppressing dark of his throne-room they shone with the mingled light of the Trees, a light which no darkness could extinguish.

When Beren came he took one of the three, and for the first time the gems were separate. Then, after uncounted years had passed, Eärendil came, and Eönwë; and they wrested the Silmarilli from Morgoth's crown, and once more were the gems in the light.

Then were they stolen, one by Maglor and one by Maedhros; and the one Maglor took was cast into the Sea, and none know of its fate, but Maedhros leapt into a fiery chasm with the last of the Silmarils clasped in his hand, and it was buried in the heart of the earth.

Ages passed and slowly the earth itself changed. Mountains shrank into valleys, and where flat plains had been, great peaks arose.

And so the Silmaril which Maedhros had taken endured within in the heart of a peak called the Lonely Mountain as it rose from the earth.

**iwillnotsaydonotweepfornotalltearsareanevil**

"Thrain! My lord Thrain!"

Thrain set his mug of ale down with a heavy thunk and let fly an oath directed towards the head of whoever was disturbing him.

"What is it?" he shouted.

The oaken door flew open as Farin, Thrain's cousin and chief of his engineers, thundered in. Any other dwarf foolish enough to do such a thing would have been given at the very least a tongue-lashing and been confined to his chambers on water rations for a week. However, Thrain could not remember Farin being this excited at any time in his life, so he simply stood, his suspense growing as the dwarf got his breath back.

"My lord…in the diggings…a gem…unlike any other…"

That was enough for Thrain.

"Show me," he commanded. Farin turned and ran, leading his lord down to the roots of the Mountain.

They could see the gem before they reached it. Only a tiny part of its surface was uncovered, but even that glowed, a pale pinprick of light in the semi-dark of the diggings.

Thrain wasted no time in taking a hammer and chisel from Gróin, who stood nearest, and setting to work. The dwarves stood and watched, the only sound in the darkness the clink of the chisel.

It was hours before the splendour of the stone was revealed, but when Thrain cradled it in his hands, there was more than one gasp, and many eyes gleamed in the dark, for always have things of great beauty aroused a fierce desire in the hearts of dwarves, and this gem blazed with the light of moon and stars and things no dwarf had ever seen. No eye could gaze into its heart for long, for the brilliance was too great for mortal eyes to long endure

"The Heart of the Mountain," Farin breathed.

"Aye," Thrain said. "The Arkenstone."

**iwillnotsaydonotweepfornotalltearsareanevil**

_"As three great jewels they were in form. But not until the End, when Fëanor shall return who perished ere the Sun was made, and sits now in the Halls of Awaiting and comes no more among his kin; not until the Sun passes and the Moon falls, shall it be known of what substance they were made. Like the crystal of diamonds it appeared, and yet was more strong than adamant, so that no violence could mar it or break it within the Kingdom of Arda. Yet that crystal was to the Silmarils but as is the body to the Children of Ilúvatar: the house of its inner fire, that is within it and yet in all parts of it, and is its life. And the inner fire of the Silmarils Fëanor made of the blended light of the Trees of Valinor, which lives in them yet, though the Trees have long withered and shine no more. Therefore even in the darkness of the deepest treasury the Silmarils of their own radiance shone like the stars of Varda; and yet, as were they indeed living things, they rejoiced in light and received it and gave it back in hues more marvellous than before."_

The Silmarillion-Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor-pg.58

**iwillnotsaydonotweepfornotalltearsareanevil**

_"But the jewel burned the hand of Maedhros in pain unbearable, and he perceived that it was as Eönwë had said, and that his right thereto had become void, and that the oath was vain. And being in anguish and despair he cast himself into a gaping chasm filled with fire, and so ended, and Silmaril that he bore was taken into the bosom of the Earth."_

The Silmarillion-Of the Voyage of Eärendil-pg. 252

**iwillnotsaydonotweepfornotalltearsareanevil**

"_The great jewel shone before his feet of its own inner light, and yet, cut and fashioned by the dwarves, who had dug it from the heart of the mountain long ago, it took all light that fell upon it and changed it into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow."  
_The Hobbit-Not At Home-pg. 249

**iwillnotsaydonotweepfornotalltearsareanevil**

_"It was as if a globe had been filled with moonlight and hung before them in a net woven of the glint of frosty stars."_  
The Hobbit-A Thief in the Night-pg. 283


End file.
